Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. The thing is to get the patient on his feet. “They mould one insensibly. “Should I leave? Sounds like she is running out of food. They will say that it was murder. Detached, it was not impossible that she would be forced to leave the dining room because of invading tears. \"The servants will hear you!\" \"I don't care! Why do you?” She cried. Too intent on her search, and convinced besides that she was quite alone, she had been an easy prey. ” With a murmured word of excuse she glided away, and Courtlaw, who had come with a mission which seemed to him to be one of life or death, was left to listen to the latest art jargon from Chelsea. \" She waved. “You met no one upon the stairs, or saw no one leave the flats?” “No one,” Anna answered firmly. She spied him sitting on his armless black couch, his feet splayed as he stared at his television blankly.
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